


Under the Exterior

by JellybeanSweet



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, inspired by fairytales
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 02:21:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18714553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JellybeanSweet/pseuds/JellybeanSweet
Summary: Prince Derek Hale is cursed by a spiteful sorceress only just after birth, forced to live in the beta-shift until he finds true love.Inspired by Fairytales. I’m sure you can guess which one.





	Under the Exterior

**Author's Note:**

> Not Beta-Read. I also didn’t edit anything, so all mistakes are just by me. Please do enjoy!

The music was fast and exciting, the intent of it spreading cheer and happiness working on the guests at the Palace of Triskele, home of the Hale Family. It was time for celebration and rejoice. The first boy of the new generation of Hales was born, and the werewolf gene had show itself in the baby. News had spread far and wide of a child that was already seemingly fit for leading, despite being only weeks old.

There were hundreds of people. Many members of royalty had brought their partners and their children, no matter the age, and the villagers of the town the Palace overlooked had also been invited inside to celebrate the birth of the new prince.

Queen Talia and King Nathaniel we’re brimming with joy, and Laura has long been put to bed. The Queen has been holding her child for a long while now, cooing at the boy and snuggling close to him as party guests gave gifts, good wishes, and joined the Queen in fawning over the baby.

He was gorgeous, despite being so young. He was quiet, but in his few weeks of living he had already captured the hearts of so many.

“Your Majesties,” a voice came from a few feet away.

Talia and Nathaniel turned to see the sit-in medical man and Druid, Deaton, a few paces away.

“The Duke and Dutchess from Chimera have arrived,” he explain, gesturing to a wealthy couple conversing near the entrance to the party hall. “It is also getting rather late. Lady Astrid advises putting his Royal Highness to bed. It is long past his bedtime, and I am surprised he has not started to fuss.”

“Oh, lovely! My dear Deaton, please take Derek to Astrid. She should be able to set him to rest for the night. Please do not forgot to station the extra guards tonight. It’s highly important with how many people have come to see my beautiful baby boy.”

Deaton nodded dutifully, gently taking Derek from his mother's arms. He grabbed out for his mother, a little whine leaving him as he immediately started to fuss. Talia cooed, giving him a soft tickle and a kiss on his forehead before stepping back. Nathaniel gave his son a little run on the cheek and a kiss to his head before he followed Talia away. 

Deaton left the room with the prince in his arms. He only got a few steps past the large door from the party room when it opened behind him and a young woman stepped out. Deaton protectively held the child before turning to look at the girl. 

“Oh, goodness! I’m sorry,” she exclaimed, eyes snapping to the prince. “I apologize, I didn’t realize you had the boy. I was simply looking for the bathroom, and I saw that you had gone out, and maybe you were headed there or worked here and knew where it was?”

Deaton, immediately wary, tightened his grip slightly, making the sleepy boy babble in protest. “It’s down the hall a little, a few doors down and to the right. Please, come right back to the party when you are finished, the guards are on high alert tonight.” It was a warning rather than directions, really. 

The lady smiled, looking a little animalistic, and hurried down the hall.

Deaton rushes away in the other direction, headed straight for the residential wing of the Palace. In his rush, he did not notice the lady casting a spell, nor did he notice her following him in complete silence. 

Deaton tilted his head to the guards stationed outside the Queen and King’s room, where Derek’s crib was. He stepped in, the Queens closest maiden waiting for him. She took the baby, setting on changing him before setting him to rest.

“Goodnight,” Deaton wishes as he left the room, returning to the party room with an eye for the woman. He did not see her on his way, and he felt a little bit of security.

Astrid bounces the baby slightly as he started to fuss. She changed him and fed him before gently setting him in his crib for a good night's rest. She tucked him up in a nice blanket and stayed for a few minutes to make sure he would stay asleep before going to her own room just a little ways down the hall. The guards would alert her if the baby cried before the King and Queen returned, or if they needed help once they had returned.

The young woman Deaton had seen before slipped closer to the bedroom.

Astrid just closed the door when the woman blasted both guards with magic before laying them to the ground. She only had a few minutes to do this, as somebody may come to see.

She rushed into the room, crowding the baby. She picked him from the crib, wildly grinning when he stayed alseep. She began to cast her spell, the power of the curse whipping of a bit of wind in the room and toppling a few things over.

The sorceress dug her hands into the child. He woke up, wailing in terror and pain. She heard the maiden, Astrid, run from her room and turned around wildly. Astrid screamed for help, but the sorceress knocked her out and the scream abruptly stopped.

The sorceress clutched the baby, quickly finishing her spell.

The baby wailed louder, screamed in agony as the he was forced into beta shift many years to early. Little claws sprouted from his hands and blood came with them. His hair thickened immensely and fangs dropped from his mouth, catching on his own mouth and making him bleed even more. Little Derek screeched, hands flailing and face red.

The sorceress heard footsteps running towards the room. She carelessly dropped the baby back into the crib and fled from the room, slamming into guards who cashed her as long as they could.

The sorceress eventually made it to the forest, disappearing from sight. The guards had to return with only a description of the woman.

Derek was still wailing in the Palace, although it has slightly diminished from exhaustion.

The last guard that had not left to chase the sorceress sheathed his weapons and removed his helmet to try and calm the prince with a friendly face. The prince just kept crying.

The guard ran to the party room, to the unguarded door had he just been stationed at. The party was still raging on.

Many footsteps came loudly down the corridor. There were the patrol guards, who must have heard the wailing boy.

One of them rushed into the room to get the Queen and King, and another rushed to find Deaton. 

In just a short moments time, Talia slammed out of the party room, rushing to her baby. She cradled him and gently shushed him, holding his tiny hand in her own. Tears sprung in her eyes as she took in his shifted form. He was much too young to be shifted, but the guard explained what had happened and she understood. A curse.

The King held Talia close. They clutched their boy to their chests as they tried to calm him.

Deaton rushed through the doors, magic at the ready. He placed a hand on Derek’s head, chanting softly before removing his hand and opening them.

“I cannot break this curse. I simply extended the terms. Someone has cursed your boy to stay in his beastly form until he is an adult at age 18, unless he can find someone that will love him despite his looks. I was able to change the terms, so he has until his 22nd year, and then the shift will stay forever. I am so sorry. I can do nothing more for your child.”

Talia and Nathaniel weeped for their little prince, who had yet to stop crying himself.

——15 Years Later——

“Get off your ass!” Laura yelled, waving her hands at Derek who was laying in his bed, ears covered like he couldn't hear her. He definitely could, he was a ‘wolf after all, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t pretend. 

“Derek, you have to get up. You know mom will be angry if you don’t.”

Derek grumbled.

“Come on you recluse, you have to get up and get dressed so you can meet all the visitors.”

Derek whined. “Nobody wants to see me! I’m hideous, who the hell would want to even try to fall in love with me? It’s stupid of mom to even try to get somebody to see me.”

Laura signed. She felt bad for pushing, Derek was painfully shy and insecure, but he would never break the curse if he didn’t meet anybody.

“Please, Der? You never-“

“I know. I’ll never find anyone if I don’t see anyone in the first place.” Derek pushed himself up and out from the covers, the expensive sheets falling away to reveal the black triskele he had gotten for his fifteenth birthday only a few days prior. It had been his mother trying to calm him to the idea of seeing the children of anybody willing to try and get past his shift. It hasn’t really worked, but Talia could tell that he was happy he got it because occasionally he’d smile and rub his shoulder blades where the tattoo laid between.

Laura smiles as Derek shuffled out of bed. He rubbed at his eyes with his palms, long since used to not using his fingertips for anything.

Laura watched him change into the outfit that had been laid out for him for this special occasion of him meeting possible suitors. She walked over to him as he slipped on his shoes.

Laura carefully brushed his thick hair with her fingers. She gently ran he fingers over his eyebrows, the worried look on Derek’s face fading slightly with the pressure. She massaged his temples lightly, pulling him close for a moment and kissing his forehead.

Laura pulled back. “You’re so handsome. They are fools if they reject you. Anybody would be lucky to have you.”

Derek was terribly insecure and shy, one can easily guess why, and Laura had an uncanny ability to calm him down and lift him up in uncomfortable situations or when he was worried. He was also prone to bouts of anxiety, sometimes quite intense, and Laura was able to pull him out in only a minute or two. Nobody else, other than the other members of his immediate family, had been able to do that all for him.

“Come on,” Laura whispered. “We should go.”

Derek nodded. As Laura turned around Derek grabbed her hand, grip tight.

“I’m scared.”

Laura smiled. She wished he would not feel like this. Oh, how she dreamed he would find somebody who loves him so he could have confidence about himself. That he wasn’t a beast.

“It’s okay to be scared.”

There was silence for a moment before Derek squeezed his sisters hand and let go; he straightened out his clothes and ran a careful, clawed hand through his hair.

“Let’s go.”

He smiled shakily, and Laura returned it.

——

They had been at this for months already, and nobody had stayed for any longer than a few days. The first few people he had met had been obviously terrified of him; Derek tried his best to seem unintimidating, but obviously it had not worked well so far. Well, maybe it had worked. Maybe he was just too repulsive.

Derek was already over it. This had been a horrible idea. Then he had met Paige. Paige was beautiful, she seemed to get over his looks quickly and she smiled a lot. Derek liked Paige. Then they had kissed, and then they kissed again quickly. The following morning, Derek was excited to meet with her and talk and maybe kiss a little more, but was informed that she had left the palace terribly ill a few hours after Derek had gone to bed.

Derek didn’t like people much after that. He figured she was probably scared to reject him and begged to go home and acted sick to get out of the Palace. When he brought up his idea to his mother and father, they said nothing. Laura hugged him while he tried not to cry. Untimely, he failed at that, too.

Derek didn’t think this would ever work.

Derek was 17, almost 18, when Jennifer came along. Jennifer was nice. She was sweet, even. They kissed a lot, and Derek enjoyed it. Jennifer seemed to like it, too. Then she tried to get him to have sex with her, and marry her as fast as possible, and Derek freaked out.

Derek had run to his mother while Jennifer was in the bathroom and told her what she was doing. Derek didn’t see Jennifer again after that.

Derek met Braeden when he was 18, about a year after Jennifer. She was nice too, and while he was wary, he wasn’t really wary enough. They talked a lot, about their life, anything they could come up with.

When Derek gently hugged her goodbye, because he liked her but he didn’t really want to kiss her yet, something sharp stabbed him in the back and he collapsed to the ground with a cry of pain.

Derek found out what it felt like to have one of the deadliest strands of wolfsbane pumped through his system and then burned out.

Braeden got killed for it. Derek was scared. 

Derek was 21, only a few months away from his 22nd birthday, when Stiles came to the Palace.

——

Derek was slumped in his throne, crown threatening to fall of his head with how far it was tilted to the side. He was exhausted, and yet it was only just past noon.

He had accepted his fate of being stuck like this forever. He had only a few months left to find someone who really loved him, but he could not. He was too hideous, too shy, too quiet, too scared.

The doors to the throne room opened and Derek straightened. He might as well try if somebody came. But this somebody was not a girl, like usual. This somebody was not dressed in fine clothes like his usual visitors, but instead in what appeared to be thin armor. He had a companion just behind he and he was accompanied by Deaton.

Derek sat up completely, adjusting the crown on his head with a tap and giving Deaton a curious look.

“Your Highness, please meet Stiles Stilinski and his companion, Scott McCall.” The two men bowed as they got near the throne, stopping a few feet away from the short set of stairs to the thrones.

“Please to meet you, your Highness,” the man in front, Stiles, probably, said. He tilted his head down in respect before straightening back up to full height.

“Nice to make your acquaintance,” Derek replied, gesturing for Stiles to continue.

“Ah, yes. You must be wondering what I’m doing here. I come from Beacon, a place quite far away from here. Maybe you’ve heard?”

Derek paused. Maybe. “My mother may have mentioned in passing once or twice.” 

Stiles nodded. “Well, I heard of your curse a while back and I wanted to see if I could help. You see, I am a mage. I’ve broken smaller curses before, but I was just a child when my father told me about the wolf prince, and I had not yet begun to practice magic. Eventually I gained control over my magic and have since improved, and my father reminded me that you were cursed. I wish to provide aid and a possible cure to this curse before it becomes solidified in just a few months time.” Derek was too distracted by the fact that he might have a cure to listen to the man's heartbeat.

Deaton looked like he had heard this before, and he had probably done various checks on the mage before letting him enter.

Derek turned to the older man. “This is all true? You listened and tested?”

Deaton nodded.

“Okay,” Derek whispered. “Okay, yes, that’s fine, please, welcome.”

He scrambled out of his chair, turning to Deaton. “Has my mother been told at all?”

“No. I wanted you to hear it first. Your mother is in her personal office.”

“Come,” Derek ordered to the group of three, rushing out of the throne room and down the hallway to his mother's office.

With a frantic knock on the door, and a confirmation, Derek entered.

Talia looked up, confused to see the look on her son's face. She hadn't seen him look this excited before.

“A cure! Mother, there are men claiming they may be able to find a cure,” Derek blabbered.

Talia stood, rounding her desk to pull her son into her arms. She rubbed his back, glancing at the three men who had entered behind him.

“Deaton, please explain.”

Derek removed his face from his mother's shoulder, but his grip tightened as the Druid explained it all again.

Talia ran his fingers through Derek’s hair.

“When can you begin and what do you need?”

——

It had been a week since Stiles had arrived. He had gotten a room to share with Scott, and he always had a guard around him incase he had somehow lied to werewolves about his intentions. During the week, Derek had still been going through visits from girls and women and the occasional man if they were confident enough to show.

It was late when Derek was called to meet with Deaton in one of the various rooms scattered across the Palace. This particular room was often used in Deatons experiments  with new spells and elixirs, which makes all too much sense.

Derek trudged down the halls, dressed only in his sleep pants and a thin shirt he had thrown on before leaving his room. It was, after all, very late.

Derek pushed his way into the room, taking in the sight of Deaton and Stiles talking quietly to one another. The two magical men were sorting out herbs or ingredients while the guard, there for Stiles, just looked unimpressed.

“Deaton? You needed me?” Derek announced loudly, making only Stiles jump.

“Yes. Stiles and I have been trying to procure more cures for your ailment. Come sit down. We may have found something and we would like to try it out” Deaton explained, gesturing to the cold, medical table that sat in the middle of the room.

Derek shuffled over, slipping onto the table with a soft huff. He yawned softly, sharp canines exposed for a moment. He rubbed at his eyes as he tried to follow the movements of the other men in the room.

“How long is this going to take?” Derek mumbled.

“Hopefully not too long, your Highness,” Stiles rushed. He dumped a bag of herbs into a simmering bowl of _something_. “Once this boils we have to combine it with two more herbs, and then we can try to use it.”

“Use it how?”

“Well, hopefully you can drink the potion. It’s not pleasant. We also can not be sure about what side effects it may cause. It’s a combination of a few things, picked and then mixed while speaking an incantation.” Stiles turned around and checked the mixture again. He turned back to look at Derek. “The ingredients have healing and cancelling elements. Hopefully, with the correct ratio, they will cancel the magic and the healing with force it to be expelled from your body. Of course, a bit of intent and some magic will go into it as well, but it’s very ambiguous as to what may be the solution to your curse.”

Derek let it all sink in.

Stiles turned away, dumping more herbs into the pot and speaking a few words. He mixed it in, seemingly done talking for the moment.

Deaton stepped close to Derek.

“For all we know, your Highness, the only cure maybe flat out be a reversal of the spell the witch placed on you.”

The hope that Derek had been given seemed to deflate. They would probably never find the cure.

“Alright, come on, drink this up and we will see what happens,” Stiles said, turning around and brushing of his clothes with his open hand. He handed the large glass to Derek.

“All of of?”

Deaton nodded.

The Prince winced, the smell already filling his nose. He raised it to his lips and squeezed his eyes shut. He chugged the large glass, slamming down on the table he was sitting on and gagging as it lingered.

Derek shuddered violently, and then again, until his entire body was trembling. Deaton rushed over and pushed him onto the table so he was laying down. His body shook, eyes still tightly shut. He finally stopped, eyes snapping open as he gagged again before he finally stopped moving altogether.

“Are you alright?” Stiles asked, hands raised in what may be defense or a show of surrender.

Derek groaned. He pushed himself back into a sitting position, body slightly trembling.

“That did nothing,” Derek mumbled.

“I am sorry for pulling you from bed, your Highness. Please, do return and get some rest,” Deaton sighed. 

Derek pushed himself off the table and stumbled, still weak. Stiles caught him and pulled him upright, steadying before letting go.

Derek shuffled his way out of the room, quiet as he did so. He didn’t think anything would work.

—— 

“Your Highness!” 

Derek sighed. Peace for even one hour seemed to be unattainable since Stiles arrived a few weeks back. Almost every day since the first trial, Derek was swallowing down a glass and as it slid down his throat, it dropped to his stomach along with any hope he had ever been given. Nothing was working, and seeing Stiles _constantly_ was not helping.

The boy, although undeniably pretty and very charming to anyone he speaks with, was beginning to get on Derek’s nerves. With the upcoming full moon, Derek was getting more antsy and uncontrolled.

But, despite the annoyance already placed in his chest, Derek turned around. There Stiles was, his enchanted robes loosely hanging off of him. 

“Would you care to join me, please? I’m heading to the gardens to gather some more herbs and you seem to be unoccupied. It might help me to mention that I don't really remember the way.”

Derek swallowed. Those stupid herbs and the stupid hope they gave him. He was losing out on that battle.

Stiles offered his arm, to which Derek looped his own around to escort the mage to their garden of magical herbs.

“So, Prince Derek, how have you been?”

“Fine.” 

“Well, your family treats their guests amazingly well. My room is beautiful. I cannot imagine what gorgeous woodwork must be in your room if mine, a guests, is already so perfect.”

Derek just grunted.

Stiles sighed as he fell silent for a minute. The arrived at the gateway from the castle to the garden and Derek dropped his hand. 

The guards at the gate nodded to Derek and pushed open the iron gate.

Stiles smiled, following Derek into the garden closely and thanking the guards.

“What do you need?” Derek asked.

Stiles paused. “Surely you have better things to do then help me, I just need to be shown what way to go. All I’m doing is picking plants.”

“You’d be surprised. I have some time today. What do you need to collect?”

“Well, I’ll grab the Wolfsbane and Aconite, but mandrake root, some ginger root, a few cloves of garlic, some belladonna, and then some other stuff should do.”

“What’s with the Wolfsbane and the Aconite?”

Stiles grimaced. “Deaton wants to give you some to see if it can put your body into a state of accelerated healing in the process of your body trying to heal you from it. I don’t like the thought of purposely poisoning you, but I suppose all the boxes have to be checked off.” 

Derek appreciated the sentiment, but it made him even less eager to go to Deaton’s room to try the various cures. 

A little while later and the two men had collected the herbs for Stiles’ basket.

“Thank you very much for helping me, Your Highness. I am grateful that you could make the time for me.” 

“I actually kind of enjoyed the serenity of picking herbs with you. If you need company again, please let me know.”

Stiles beamed, giving the werewolf a squeeze on the shoulder in thanks as he rushed out of the gardens.

If Derek picked a few flowers he thought smelled very pretty before he left, nobody really had to know about it.

——

“You want to pump me full of Wolfsbane _and_ Aconite?” Derek gaped. “Are you kidding me?”

Talia put a hand on Derek’s shoulder. This was the first time Derek had seen her so serious in years.

“If anything goes wrong, we are all right here to help you, okay? You are an adult, you are strong, you are brave, and we all believe in you so much, okay? The whole pack believes in you.”

Derek nodded. “Thanks,” he rasped. Talia kissed the top of his head and he took a deep breath.

“I love you, my beautiful little boy,” Talia murmured.

Derek blushed at the nickname. He made eye contact with Stiles from across the room and sighed. He laid down on the cold, hard, metal table. They were in a little bit of a bigger room this time, not Deatons, but something with enough room for Deaton, Stiles, Scott, Talia, Laura, and a few guards. 

Everyone was there in case this went horribly wrong. It had been tested multiple times, on plants modified to react like werewolf cells, and had been working to get rid of any malicious spell cast to test.

Derek though, he knew something would go wrong. Something always went wrong. Derek could never have anything go right all the way.

With a heavy breath, Deaton walked over to Derek. His hands lit up a dark red, hovering over Derek’s chest until it went numb. Stiles’ hands covered Derek’s eyes and he used magic to cover his ears.

Deaton picked up a scalpel and made a cut along Derek’s sternum. He grabbed the mixture of aconite and wolfsbane and began to press it in between Derek’s skin while reciting an incantation. He grabbed another bowl and dumped its contents into Derek’s open wound, pressing it down with his hands while continuing to speak. 

As soon as Deaton finished his incantation, he pulled away. He forced Stiles to stop blocking Derek’s senses as well, so they could tell the full force of the Princes reaction.

Derek’s eyes were glowing brightly, his mouth open and fangs highly visible as his mouth opened and he arched off the table in pain. A groan left his mouth, but he settled for a moment. 

The peace only last a few seconds before Derek roared in agony, back arching painfully hard off of the table and his whole body tensed up. 

Derek thrashed and writhed around, hands coming to his chest to tear apart his skin in an attempt to stop the burning.

Talia pushes Derek back onto the table, but he struggles with fervor and throws her off. He claws harder at his own chest, ripping it open with ease.

Talia and Laura grab his arms and use all of their strength to keep them against the table.

“Deaton, we have to take it out, his healing isn’t activating the way it should be,” Stiles protests, hands aflame as he rushes towards Derek. Derek’s heart lurched at how much care and concern those words help.

Deaton stoped Stiles, but when Derek’s next noise of pain comes out, he stops. It’s not a roar of pain again, but an all too human scream of fear. The tears that streak down Derek’s face say it all. Deaton and Stiles rush to him, but Derek’s last conscious thought is how much it hurts.

—— 

It’s almost a month later when Derek sees Stiles again. Deaton had not called him back down for a cure.

Derek’s birthday was only one month away now, and his mood could be described in only one way. The beautiful prince was hopeless and numb, simply waiting for the day to pass so he could finally give up on trying.

The crash from hope to numb had not been fast. It has been a few weeks coming. The more and more Deaton and Stiles failed to find a cure, the worse Derek’s mental state became. At first it was small, only a little shift in the already quiet man. But then he went from quiet to silent. He went from shy to cut-off. From tired to exhausted. From passionate to impersonal. From hopeful to numb.

The Prince became a shell, and all his family could do was watch his exterior crack away until he became nothing at all.

But now, just a month away from his 22nd birthday, Derek saw Stiles again.

Stiles was humming to himself, his face squeezed in concentration as he conjured his magic.

Derek couldn’t see what he was doing, just that Scott was with him and Deaton was nowhere to be found, and Derek could almost feel the hopeful look that had somehow made its way into his face.

Stiles gasped and snapped out of whatever haze he had been in, turning on his heel and locking eyes with Derek. He flinched back and Derek’s face immediately fell, replaced by a blank slate. 

Derek said nothing as turned on his heel and left the room, running from his problems like a coward. A hopefully, unlovable coward.

“Your Highness, please wait!” Stiles shouted, rushing after Derek. “Please! I didn’t mean it!”

Derek rounded a corner where he knew guards were stationed and just kept running. When Stiles rounded the corner, he ran into the chest of a guard.

“Your Highness! I didn't- I’m sorry!” Stiles voice cracked on the apology.

The guard pushed Stiles back and the mage could only watch as the prince rounded another corner as disappeared from sight.

——

Stiles grabbed Derek’s wrist before the prince could turn away.

“Stiles-“

“No, hush. I am not scared of you. The only reason I flinched yesterday was because I was coming out of a spell that requires intense focus and I did not know that you were there, and seeing you surprised me.”

“I’m sure the beastly face did not help.”

“Be quiet. I do not care what face you have, it matters what you are like, and you are kind and have a wonderful personality. Now, come, I want to make it up to you. I put together some food with the help of the cooks and I set it out on a balcony that overlooks the garden.” 

Derek let himself be walked away. Stiles opened the doors to the balcony and closed them once he and Derek were through. They sat down together and Stiles waved his fingers, heating the food back up so they could eat.

Derek and Stiles spoke more than they ever had, mainly about adventures Stiles had been on and stories about Derek’s childhood. 

When the food was gone and the sun had long since hidden away, Stiles cleared the table with a wave and stood, holding his hand out for Derek to grab. 

Stiles pulled the prince up so they were chest to chest, their hands still clenched together tightly.

“I enjoyed this, with you,” Derek whispered.

Stiles smiled, grabbing Derek’s other hand and holding them both between his own two hands.

“I enjoyed tonight as well. I hope we can do it again.”

Derek took a deep breath. “It is so early, but I have never felt so… so secure around someone not of my family. Never felt so right, or so wonderful with another. I have never felt so connected and close in one single evening. I don’t know what to do with you.”

Stiles connected their eyes. “You can kiss me.”

Derek leaned in as Stiles tilted his head up, their lips connected softly with a sigh of relief. Derek pulled back for a moment, just looking at Stiles, before he dived back in. 

“How can it be so? I had lost hope. I am falling for you, Stiles.” Just as the words left Derek’s mouth, he collapsed to the ground, a black most shrouding his body.

Stiles yelled and fell to his knees next to the prince, hands hovering and shaking wildly.

The most dispersed as quick as it formed and on the ground laid a man with thick, black hair, matched to his thick eyebrows. He had stubble along his chin and two teeth that reminded Stiles of an adorable bunny. His eyes tightened before they were blinked open to reveal a gorgeous pair of eyes.

“Derek?”

The man blinked before bringing a hand to his face. He brushed his hands on his teeth, searching for fangs before frantically lifting his hands to reveal fingers without claws.

“Oh my god. Stiles. Stiles!” The man, it had to be Derek, wrapped his arms around Stiles tightly.

“You saved me. You cured me! Oh, my god, I don’t- I- what do I- Stiles!”

Derek grabbed Stiles and pulled him in for another kiss. He littered the mans face with little kisses, making the mage laugh. 

“I can not believe this. You are so amazing. You beautiful, life changing man.”

“Look at you, Derek. You’re so handsome, so beautiful. I can see the shift in your face, always so gorgeous.” 

Derek let out a sob, clutching Stiles close and shaking.

“Oh, Derek. You deserve to feel good. You deserve this after so much bad.”

Derek let out a wet laugh. “You’re making me cry.”

Stiles rubbed his back. “You deserve a good cry, too. We should tell your family.”

Derek nodded into Stiles’ neck, but neither moved. 

They stayed there until Laura came to find them when they had not returned inside. When Laura found Stiles and her brother curled up on the balcony with a blanket, she smiled, but when Derek turned his head to see who it was, she cried and fell to her knees to hug him.

When Laura finally let go and dragged the two men inside, she roared for their family to find them and they can running.

The Hale Family came running to find a human-faced Derek sobbing as his sister and his boyfriend held him, and they all started to cry and rejoice. 

When Derek finally made it back to his room he invited Stiles inside and they collapsed on the bed together, falling asleep, exhausted, but so very excited for the rest of their lives to come.


End file.
